


Naturally

by secondhandpenguin



Category: A Separate Peace - John Knowles
Genre: Internal Monologue, Just Finny working through things really, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 06:59:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16635119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondhandpenguin/pseuds/secondhandpenguin
Summary: How ironic, that at the end of their summer came his fall.





	Naturally

**Author's Note:**

> I'd just like to add as a disclaimer that this is my first published fic, and I'm a little rusty on canon, but inspiration hit and I quite liked what I'd produced. Any constructive criticism is welcome.

How ironic, that at the end of their summer came his fall.

It was as if someone planned it. There was always a plan behind coincidences, behind unfortunate events that lined up in the most fortunate way. But the whistle of autumn wind through colored leaves shook Finny's philosophy from its flimsy branches, weakened over years of piling the weight of life onto them, and it shattered on the ground in a million pieces.

Gene's eyes regarded him like a deer in the headlights sometimes, other times just like they always had. They flickered in and out of presence in the evenings, when he'd drift from his trig book to the wall, as if the nothingness of it drew him into a trance. The tree he once leapt from in triumph, he now cowered from, pulling his school blazer tighter around his shoulders as he trekked across campus. And all Finny could do was pick up the pieces.

And when he'd lie awake at night, wishing a mere trip to the bathroom from his bed wasn't so much of an obstacle to overcome with that damn cast on his leg, he’d think. He’d think about why he had that cast, and it’d make his stomach churn in a flurry of emotions he didn’t have the strength to decipher at that hour. Something spoke in its wordless voice, injecting his understanding of Everything with an inkling of doubt, enough to dampen any pleasant ignorance he managed to muster. He’d lost his balance, of course. He’d been tired that day and the wind was blowing particularly hard, and he was so filled with anticipation at the prospect of a double jump that he’d stumbled. Naturally, he stumbled and fell, because that’s what happens when you don’t watch what you’re doing. Naturally, the shock of it all compelled Gene to claim the fault was his. He couldn’t have Finny feeling sorry for himself, after all, like a true pal. But he could feel the voice shake its head.

Of course the thought never crossed his mind. Gene fit a particular class of people with only himself belonging to it, a class with no name, for no one had dared to give it one. It hung on a thin branch between two understood places Gene could never belong for him, and never would if he could help it. And although it needed particular watch and protection, that place, so that it never swayed in the wind and knocked him over the edge, Finny wouldn’t have it any other way. Because in that place, summer never ended, and Gene would go red in the face when Finny wore his clothes like they were his own, and would throw away his inhibitions so they could spend the night under the stars together, grinning like he hadn’t since the summer before. It was a little like how he felt about winter, Finny thought, and the closest thing he’d ever felt to it. 

Gene was his winter in summer.

But perhaps it was all planned. Maybe the tree desired to have its branches left alone, and they should have respected its independence as a living thing. Maybe the river would rather not have humans splashing around in its waters. Maybe Finny was becoming prideful, becoming too good at what he did to have humility, and it was best if he learned to be satisfied without sports. Maybe he needed to give up his possessions and become a monk in some faraway monastery to be at peace with himself and understand what he desperately tried to. Maybe his summer had gone on for too long.

It all seemed more likely than the crazy things he thought up at night. Yes, naturally the night gets into your head and darkens it. Gene’s awkwardness at the sight of his cast was simply shock at seeing his best friend in pain, and out of character. Gene watched the grass when the tree came into view because of the tragedy it had caused, all for want of them off its branches. Gene claimed guilt so that Finny wouldn’t beat himself up anymore than that damn tree had. That was all he could do, and it all made sense that way. 

Because if you really love something, then it loves you back, in whatever way it has to love. Naturally.

**Author's Note:**

> The last sentence is partially taken directly from A Separate Peace. That part belongs to John Knowles, but the rest is mine, and I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
